


In Wakanda

by stevieraebarnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Character Study, Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Stucky - Freeform, Suicide Attempt, montage style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 00:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7868446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevieraebarnes/pseuds/stevieraebarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A montage of moments put under the microscope following Steve and Bucky's journey to recovery starting at the end of CA:TWS and continuing after the end credits' scene of CA:CW. Loosely based on _In Bruges_.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Wakanda

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second ever posting and my first Stucky fic! After seeing Civil War, like a lot of you on here, I started wondering about what would happen next and began to write down my thoughts. Earlier this month, I discovered AO3 and now have an outlet!! Yay!! 
> 
> Anyways, while dealing with the characters' isolation in Wakanda, my brain started deflecting to _In Bruges_ as a way to laugh at some of the more serious plot aspects so I just went with it. I cast Tony as Harry because it was a good fit, but obviously Tony is way more awesome, so no Tony hate please.
> 
> Check tags (spoilers ahead!): there are some homophobic comments and a brief instance of attempted suicide.
> 
> Please enjoy and feel free to leave comments! Ugh, I can't get the formatting right and I'm starting to get nervous so I'm just going to post this and not tinker with it. The spacing between sentences is random, but OH WELL. Sorry for any other mistakes!! Thanks for reading!

** In Wakanda **

  _Is it not so / With the minds of men? / The level and low, / The burnt and bare, in themselves; but then / With such a blue and red grace, not theirs,— / Love settling unawares!_

_“On the Cliff” – Robert Browning_

            The face shown out; impossibly bold and humble at the same time. A vintage image etched into a free standing glass structure with a tribute written in clean white lettering. The face on the wall brought him up short. He had gone looking for answers, he knew they were out there, but to see his own face shine brightly took away the air in his lungs. It _was_ his face: the hair clipped short, face clean shaven, mouth set, eyes focused on something just beyond the camera lens. He stood staring at the image. He knew he should move on. He found what he needed and his lingering only increased his chances of being recognized. He looked again at his face – his face from 1944 – mesmerized by the clarity in his eyes. He read again the accompanying description, trying to understand how the details and his own image could possibly coexist. _Childhood best friend of Captain Steven Rogers._ He had a best friend. His mission had been his best friend. James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes had died in 1944. He had been twenty-seven. People had mourned for him. Capt. Rogers had been presumed dead two days later. Rogers had willingly crashed the plane he was in to save New York. But in the end, both men had survived their falls.

            His mouth had opened into a gape while he read and he closed it with surety. Armed with a name, Barnes turned to the exit.

 ***

            Steve woke up in a hospital bed. He noticed a man sitting next to his bedside and knew what to do next.

            “On your left.”

            The two exchanged laughs (painfully on Steve’s part) and Sam shook his head at his friend. “I didn’t know Captain America could end up in a hospital. Let’s not do this again too soon.”

            Steve gave a dry laugh. “Yeah, I’ll try to be more considerate next time.”

            “We found you on the bank of the Potomac.” Sam paused. “Looked like you were dragged out by the Winter Soldier.”

            Steve turned his head away, trying to process what had happened.

            “I got through to him, Sam.”

            “How?”

            “Just the right words. And the memory behind them.”

            “What are you going to do?”

            “Get him back.”

 *** 

            _After I left Stark bleeding in the middle of nowhere, I grabbed Bucky and began the walk back to the jet. T’Challa was there. He had instructions for us. ‘I’m taking you with me to Wakanda,’ he said. I didn’t even know where Wakanda was._

_It’s in Africa._

 

            “T’Challa, I think going under was a mistake.”

            “Captain, he made his decision. He, and, well, plenty of others, feel it’s safest that he’s back in cryo until we can figure out a plan.”

            “And I don’t think medical experimentation is the way to go.”

            “Steve, arguing about this isn’t a treatment for your friend.”

            “I’ve been talking with some people, T’Challa. I think controlled rehabilitation is what Bucky needs. To reconstruct himself in a safe place. We can’t get any safer than Wakanda.”

            “And Sergeant Barnes is a joy to have in my country. Provided he remains asleep.”

            Steve exploded. “How could you…?!?”

            The king interrupted, throwing his hands up in a gesture of peace. “You’re not here, Steve. You’ve taken quite a few people under your protection.”

            “They’re my team. They fought by my side and ended up imprisoned for it. I had to set things right.”

            “I’m not blaming you, Captain. I think you did right. But Barnes is a commitment. If he’s going to be awake, and still damaged, then I need you here at all times.”

            “Of course. Bucky comes first.”

            T’Challa raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

            “What about The Avengers? What about HYDRA? What about protecting the innocent?”

            “Bucky comes first,” Steve said again with more force.

            “I’m going to need you to keep your word.”

            “Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky. Don’t doubt me on this, T’Challa. It’s pissing me off.”

 ***

            Cap’s burner phone rang, interrupting a thousand thoughts. He knew who was calling.

            “Tony.”

            “Where the fuck are you? You think you can just fucking mail me a phone saying you’re sorry and that would make it fucking better? Fuck no! You better keep laying low, you hear me? After the shit storm you started, just stay fucking gone until I figure this out. You fucked up, Cap. Now I gotta fucking deal with this mess so you just lay low!” The phone went dead.

            “What was that?” Bucky asked.

            “Uh, Tony.”

            “What’d he say?”

            “Mostly just the f-word. Geez, he swears a lot, doesn’t he?”

            Bucky shrugged.

            “Well, he does.” Steve paced around the room. “So what’s on the agenda today, Buck?”

            “I just do what they tell me, Steve. I’m still on bed rest because of cryo.”

            Steve looked at his friend, watched him sigh and look at the window.

            “Hey, Bucky, can I draw you?”

            “What?”

            “I’ve got my sketch pad and some pencils in my bag. Do you mind if I bring them out and sketch you?”

            “No, go ahead.”

            Steve rifled through his bag for the things he needed. He laid out his supplies and looked up to get a good visual of his subject. It had been a long time since he’d drawn a portrait of Bucky. Mostly he’d done it when they were kids. Only once when he was older, but he didn’t tell Buck about it. And that was over seventy years ago. When he looked up again at Buck, he was no longer staring out the window. Bucky’s head and neck were curved over a notebook, pencil in hand, steadily scribing across the page. Steve watched him write, until Bucky, lost in thought, bit his bottom lip as he concentrated. Then Steve began to draw.

            He penciled in a rough shape of his head, getting the approximate proportions down and the curve of his face. Then he sketched the mouth, which was to be the feature of this drawing. He had just finished filling in the heavy brows when Bucky spoke.

            “I remembered.”

            Steve stopped and looked at Bucky.

            “I remembered you drawing and I had to write it down. You were always drawing. You used to draw pictures of us in faraway places. Sometimes you’d draw me just as I was for practice. One year, for Christmas, I bought you an artist’s notebook. You cried when you opened it.”

            “It meant a lot to me. For a long time. Actually, that notebook’s at the Smithsonian.”

            Bucky clammed up. “Do people look through it?”

            “No, it’s behind glass. I’ve actually asked for it back. It’s too bad I didn’t steal it when I broke in for my suit.”

            “Yeah, priorities, punk.”

            Steve smiled. “Jerk.”

***

            Barnes paced the medical bay. Steve watched him as he sat perched on a built in cabinet countertop.

            “Buck…”

            “I want out. I don’t want to see another therapist. I don’t want to see any more neurologists. I don’t want to be in Wakanda anymore.”

            “You know this is the only place we’re safe. We can’t leave. And you’re getting amazing help. All of this is for you! It’s a nice break from being hunted!”

            “A nice break would be the Bahamas, Steve. Instead, we’re here.”

            “Yeah, it was probably cheaper for T’Challa to take us here instead of the Bahamas.”

            Bucky stared at him and then laughed. Steve gave an amused snort. “Glad you can still laugh at my jokes, Buck.”

            “Yeah, well, not much else to laugh at here.” He took a deep breath. “I know what you’re saying Steve. I get it. And, really, I understand why I’m here. It’s just that, I can’t leave this facility. I haven’t even _seen_ Wakanda. I only see these white walls day after day. I sleep in the medical facility! They keep asking me to remember the past and it hurts. Because I do remember. And I’m so far away from what I used to be. You keep asking me to remember, Steve. And that hurts, too.”

            “What do you mean?”

            Bucky searched Steve’s face, and gave up. “Never mind.”

            “No, Buck, come on. I don’t want to hurt you.”

            “Maybe later.”

            “Okay.” Steve looked down at his folded hands in his lap. “Whatever you need, okay? I’m here for you. You know that right? I will always be here for you.”

            Bucky looked at him, weighing what Steve was saying. “Yeah, I know.”

*** 

            He found the scalpel easily.

            The medical staff was so impressed with his progress. HYDRA meant nothing to him. The right words said in the right order in the right language had no effect. The doctors were so concerned with the Cold War programming that they forgot about the emotional damage. The remorse. He looked at the blade. He’d survived falls, bombings, projectiles, and buckshot. This tiny blade was all he needed.

            Then, a voice.

            “Don’t do this.”

            “Go away,” Barnes responded.

            “I’m not leaving here until we talk about this. Give me the scalpel.”

            He stared at his oldest friend, caught between two paths, and then Barnes’ shoulders slumped. “What am I going to do, Steve? What am I going to do?”

            Steve knew it wasn’t the medical instrument he was referring to. “We’ll get through this, Buck.”

            “I remember them! I killed so many people!” The fury of them washed over him and he fell to his knees, sobbing.

            Steve ran over and embraced him, throwing his body around him like a shield. It’s what he does best. “But you saved me. And you’re going to save someone else. You’re not going to bring those people back, Buck, but you can save so many more. You’re a good person.”

            “I’m nothing, Steve. I don’t know what I am.”

            Steve pulled Bucky closer, felt his chest erratically rise and fall against his own. “I know who you are. And you do, too. That’s why you write down every memory that comes to you; so you don’t forget who you are. You love to read. But you would never let the other kids at school know about your love of fiction. When you were twenty, you read _The Hobbit_ cover to cover when it came out. You didn’t move from that ratty sofa and I had to cook all of your meals just so you’d eat something. And then you read it again. I had to make you go to work.”

            Bucky sat back and smiled at him. “‘In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.’” Then he frowned. “How do I live?”

         

*** 

            T’Challa, Steve, and Bucky walked along the path up to the front steps of the porch. It was surrounded by greenery, like the trees and vines were trying to fold it into its jungle. The air was wet, and as they got closer, they could hear the faint hum of an A/C unit.

            “Here it is,” announced T’Challa. “We use this bungalow to house distinguished guests who are invited to stay for a good length of time. It is now yours to use.”

            “It’s perfect,” said Steve. “Thanks T’Challa.”

            “Well, let’s see the inside first.” He opened the front door and motioned for them to enter. Cool, dry air greeted them. “It’s fully furnished and has a complete kitchen. As you can see, the kitchen, dining, and living areas flow into each other.” _Nowhere to hide._

            Bucky walked to a door just off the kitchen. “What’s this?” he asked as he opened it.

            “That’s a laundry room.”

            “Fancy,” Barnes mumbled.

            “Come on back here,” T’Challa continued. “On either side you have two bedrooms, and in the middle, a full bathroom. Each bedroom comes with it’s own half bath.”

            “What’s that?” Steve and Bucky both asked.

            “It means no shower,” T’Challa explained. “Just a sink and toilet.”

            Bucky started roaming around the bungalow. “It’s…roomy.”

            “Really? Oh, yes, well, I hope it’s not too much house.”

            “Buck, this is way better than sleeping at the clinic,” Steve quietly said to him as he walked past him through the rooms.

            “It’s ready for you at this very moment,” continued T’Challa. “Will this work?”

            Steve looked at Bucky for an answer.

            “Yeah, it’ll do.”

***

            Steve walked through the front door and kicked off his shoes, then continued back towards the bedrooms. He hid the brown delivery package behind his back as he stopped in front of Bucky’s open door frame. Bucky was sitting on his bed, hunched over his current notebook. He looked like he was reading over what he had just written down.

            “Hey, Buck,” Steve called.

            Barnes looked up and gave Steve a smile. “Hey yourself. Where’d you go off to?”

            “I got something for you.”

            Barnes looked at Steve with uncertainty. “Like what?”

            “It’s a gift for you.”

            “Is it my birthday?”

            “No. Your birthday’s in March.”

            “I know that, Steve. I have no idea of the dates here.”

            “Oh. Really? I guess, everyone sort of forgot…Wait, what do you write in your notebooks?”

            “It’s not a day planner. I just write down memories, and when _they_ happened.”

            “Right. Well, this is just a gift I think you’ll like.” Steve held out the box. “Go ahead and open it.”

            Bucky slit the tape along the seams and lifted the lid. He tossed aside the slip of paper and packets of air to find three novels inside.

            “ _The Lord of the Rings_ … _The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, The Return of the King_ …”

            Steve couldn’t contain himself anymore. “These are all about the ring that Bilbo found in _The Hobbit_.”

            “There are more books after _Hobbit_??” Bucky got up and threw his arms around Steve. “Thank you! Thank you, so much.”

            Steve pressed Bucky closer to him. “Anything for you, Buck.”

            Barnes tousled Steve’s hair, then sat back down on his bed, situating himself against the headboard and examining the first book. Steve sat down at the foot of the bed, watching Bucky’s eyes dart over the cover art and title page. Then he noticed the suddenly disregarded notebook open.

            “How are the notes coming?”

            Barnes paused, holding his breath. Then he exhaled. “Do you want to read it?”

            “What? No, Bucky, those are your personal thoughts. I’d be intruding.”

            “You used to read my writing.”

            “That was when we were kids, and they were your stories. Just like when I shared my art with you.”

            “Please, I want you to read.”

            He hesitated, but curiosity won out. “Okay.”

            Steve grabbed the notebook and flipped back to an earlier entry. “I remember this,” Steve said after reading for a minute. “This is when we went to the theatre for the first time.” He continued reading, then looked up at Barnes. “There are so many notebooks, so many entries…do you feel like your memories are back?”

            “I think mostly. I’m remembering more of the things I liked. I’ve been remembering feelings as well as events for awhile.”

            Steve smiled at him, a face of pure happiness beaming at Bucky’s success in returning to himself.

            “I just recently remembered some poems that I used to like.”

            “Do you still like them? The poems?”

            Bucky scrunched his face in thought. “I do, actually.” He took back his notebook and flipped through the pages. “Here, I wrote down some passages that I, uh, still find meaningful.” He handed the pages to Steve, who read:

_Do I wrong your weakness and call it worth?_

_Expect all harvest, dread no dearth,_

_Seal my sense up for your sake?_

_The man was my whole world, all the same,_

_With his flowers to praise or his weeds to blame,_

_And, either or both, to love._

_Yet this turns now to a fault—there! there!_

_That I do love, watch too long,_

_And wait too well, and weary and wear;_

_And ‘t is all an old story, and my despair_

_My wisdom has bidden your pleasure good-by_

            Steve continued to sit, absorbing what he had read, feeling that some new territory was just beyond the crossroads he had stumbled upon. “Who wrote this?” he asked.

            “It’s called ‘Along the Beach’ by Robert Browning.”

            “Browning. I remember hearing his name. From you.”

            “I remember I used to read this poem a lot. Before the war.”

            Steve scooted himself closer. “Bucky, I don’t want to misunderstand anything. I need you to talk to me.”

            Barnes nodded. “I know, Steve. I’m trying. Remembering how life used to be, living back in Brooklyn with you, it’s painful. But what’s really hard, is realizing that seventy years later, I still feel how I did when we were kids…How I feel for you.” He looked at Steve, then looked down at his lap again. “I’ve always loved you, Steve. But I’ll deal with it.”

            Steve stared at Barnes, thoughts swirling through his mind. Bucky had always been at the center of his heart. He had always been his best friend. But to hear Barnes speak of love, it all seemed so perfectly natural to the Captain. Had it always been love for them? He knew Bucky. He knew his mannerisms. His habits. With Bucky by his side, Steve had always felt larger. He had felt more like himself. He had felt at home. He knew that there had always been more to his friendship with Bucky. And he knew, that even hiding out here in Wakanda, that with Bucky getting better, he again felt the comfort of a home.

            Steve crawled next to Barnes and held him.

            “Steve, you don’t have to do this. It’s okay. I’ve put you through so much. You don’t owe me anything.”

            “I’m not doing this to make you feel better, you jerk!” Steve sat up and looked at his friend. “I’m never letting go of you.”

            “You mean, you actually…??”

            “Buck, it’s always been you for me. No one else. I just didn’t understand, because I just, I never let myself think about it.”

            “But, we can’t,” Bucky started.  
            “Yes, we can. We’ve fought Nazis, HYDRA, the world. I’d take on more.”

            “But,”

            “It’s not 1940 anymore! It’s perfectly legal!”

            “What?”

            “There are no consequences for a man to love another man.”

            “Are you just trying to make me feel better?”

            Steve laughed. “Okay, before you start on _Lord of the Rings_ , we’ve got some Google searches to do. And I will show you, just how okay it is, for you and me to love each other.”

            Bucky smiled, a real one that transformed his whole face into the one that Steve could so clearly remember from Brooklyn. And he remembered something else. He grabbed Bucky’s notebook and pen, and wrote beneath the last line Bucky had copied in:

_“Grow old along with me!” – Robert Browning_

            “I knew I remembered something about that poet.” And he handed the notebook back to the man he hoped would grow old with him.

***

            “Alright, Cap. You’ve had your vacation, and now it’s time for a dose of reality.”

            “We’ve been working to get him better! He’s himself again!”

            “You’re working with a broken, suicidal, murderer. It’s time for him to be brought in.” Tony shook his head and continued when Steve didn’t move. “Not only have you refused to bring him to the authorities, Cap, but you even stopped him from killing himself, which, to be honest, is extremely high handed of you – no matter your old-timey morals – and would’ve solved a lot of peoples’ problems with him.”

            “It wouldn’t have solved his problem, Tony.”

            “Cap, if I’d killed that many people, that many kids’ parents, accidentally or otherwise, I wouldn’t have thought twice. I’d kill myself on the fucking spot.”

            “Do not turn him into the scapegoat for us! Do not pin our body counts on him! The casualties of New York were not our faults. They weren’t Bucky’s. Sokovia gets blamed on us, but you know what? We did the best that we could in the most extreme of situations. No one else could have stopped Ultron. We stopped Ultron! Yes, a lot of people died. But the overwhelming majority was saved! That’s why we made the decisions that we did!”

            “Sacrificing thousands, millions, for billions…You’ve become a fucking vigilante, you know? I know that I was responsible for Ultron. And I am cooperating with the Accords because I failed to be responsible. And with this…I gotta stick to my principles, Cap.”

            “Tony, think about what you’re doing! It wasn’t Bucky! It wasn’t him! We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. But for us, those were mistakes. And we learned from them. These weren’t even Bucky’s mistakes to make! They brainwashed him! The only thing that’s responsible for the death of your parents is HYDRA.”

            “Look, I get that he’s your war buddy and you war vets gotta stick together, but he’s _broken_. He’s a waste of a human shell. He’s not your friend, Cap.”

            “You’re not listening.” He paused, “I love him, Tony,” Steve said finally.

            Tony stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

            “I love him. I’m not giving him up.”

            “Are you fucking kidding me??? What about Carter? What about, huh, guess it was just Carter.” Tony trailed off. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

            “Can’t we just cool off and go talk about this over a drink?”

            “Yeah, sure: ‘Bartender, one gay beer for my gay friend, and one normal beer for me ‘cause I’m normal.”

            “Tony, don’t be a dick.”

            “You’re making me so fucking angry, Steve! Why’d you have to complicate this! I don’t give a shit who’s gay and who’s not! You’ve got someone to care about, good for you! But _him_? Why him?”

            “It’s always been him, Tony. I’m with him ‘til the end of the line.”

            Tony groaned. “Oh my God.”

***

            Bucky watched from a chair in the lounge most of them had gathered in as Tony strode in from his outside conversation with Steve. Tony saw Bucky, glared at him and shook his head.

            “What do you think him and Cap talked about?” Sam asked Bucky.

            “I’m not sure,” Barnes muttered, but he suddenly felt nervous.

            Tony crossed to the other side of the room and plowed through the doors to exit, just as Steve entered the room.

            “Guess he’s not staying,” Sam said.

            “He’s probably going to yell at T’Challa,” said Natasha.

            Clint grunted. “Good luck to them. We’re all such a stubborn bunch.”

            “So, Cap,” Natasha began, “you got a plan? Because I’ve got a false identity I can go back to living.”

            “Wait, we’re all fugitives, but you’ve already joined society?” Sam asked.

            “Yeah. Guess I’m just not as comfortable sitting on my ass all day like the rest of you.”

            “So that’s how it is, huh?!?”

            “Cool it, I know you were in lockdown.”

            “Man, I like your teasing, it’s your insensitivity that needs work.”

            “Okay, _man_.”

            Sam sighed. “Touché.”

            “Steve,” Bucky interrupted.

            “He’ll come around. He always does,” Steve responded.

            “Usually it’s because there’s an alien invasion that forces us all to work together and the adrenaline rush from winning leaves us as besties.” Natasha shrugged. “I don’t think we’ve ever consciously worked out our issues. Except for Clint and me.” Clint gave her a high five.

            “I don’t care about that,” Bucky continued, ignoring the others.

            Steve walked over to the empty chair next to Bucky and sat down. “I’m okay,” he reassured him.

            “What are we going to do?” Bucky asked.

            “If the Avengers are needed, we’ll assemble. We’ll always be there if we’re needed. But for now, what do you think about staying in Wakanda for a bit more? I kinda like our bungalow.”

            Bucky smiled at him, a faint blush crept up his neck. “Yeah, staying sounds good.”

            Natasha stood up. “Well, I better get Clint back home.”

            “What? Why? We just got here!”

            “I’ve heard how much trouble that toddler of yours is giving your family. Come on.” She looked over at Sam, who was staring at the Captain with his mouth open. “Sam? What about you?”

            He composed himself quickly. “Actually, I’m going to hang out for a bit.”

            She smiled. “Yeah? You do what he does? Just slower?”

            “Uh, most things, yeah. But not like _everything_ , you know?”

            “Loud and clear, Sam.” She walked over to Steve and gave him a hug. “Take some shore leave, okay?”  
            “That’s the plan,” he said laughing.

            She looked up into his face. A wide smile, blue eyes full of mirth. “I’m happy for you, Steve.” She gave him a pat on the arm and moved on to Barnes. “He’s a national treasure,” she said quietly, only a hint of threat, “but I get that you were there first, before any of this. I respect you, Bucky, for that. I’ll forget the other things you were if that’s what you want.”

            “Thank you,” he said, just as quietly.

            Clint stood up, gave a small wave, and followed Nat out of the room, where their voices could be heard lingering, though fainter and fainter with each step.

            “I still don’t get why we have to leave now?” Clint complained.

            “Shut up, I’ll tell you later.”

            “Why does Sam get to stay?”

            “Sam knows how to make himself scarce when needed.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            “I’ll tell you when we’re in the air!”

            Sam listened to them trail away. “So!” he said, interrupting Steve and Bucky’s quietness. “I want to hang out with you guys and T’Challa. That’s going to look really good on my résumé when I’m, you know, no longer considered a criminal.”

            Steve laughed. “You always know how to see the positive, Sam.”

            “Yeah, well, T’Challa’s got some nice digs that he’s promised I could stay in.”

            “You can stay with us, too.”

            “Well, I’m really intrigued by these kingly guest suites His Highness mentioned, but I’m definitely coming over to your guys’ place for movie nights, okay? I just want to see Barnes’ reaction to Star Wars. It’s gonna be awesome.”

            “You got it, Sam.”

            “Well, I know Tony’s still on the premises, so I say we get outta here and maybe get some lunch. Sound good?”

            “I’m hungry,” Bucky said to Steve.

            Sam stood. “Okay, so what’s the recommendation?”

            “Usually, we just go to the med dining hall or we make something at home.”

            “Well, I’ve had your food, Steve. So, dining hall it is.” He started walking away, then looked back to see if the men were following. He saw Steve and Bucky share a smile, and watched Steve grab Bucky’s hand to pull him up. Bucky didn’t let go.

            Sam looked away and continued walking. But he smiled at his friend’s happiness. “Come on! I’m hungry!”

 

_fin_

 


End file.
